


Third Base

by moor



Category: Saiunkoku Monogatari
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moor/pseuds/moor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU: Ryuuki x Shuurei. The couch needed breaking in. AU/AR,COMPLETE,HJ,M/F,PWP,Rom</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Base

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. :)
> 
> Note: Originally written around 2010 or so & posted to AFF.net. This was one of my first ‘smut’-ee pieces of writing to be posted. Concrit is much appreciated! Now, to revel in my self-conscious, awkward attempts at intimacy...

 

Between the late hour, the long day, and the warm couch, Ryuuki and Shuurei could hardly keep their eyes open.

And to the man’s chagrin, he was the only one who could hardly keep his hands to himself. As always, he looked forward to spending time with Shuurei; but she worked so hard, so much, always to exhaustion, she never had much time to spend with him.

“I can turn the movie off?” past midnight, his voice was raspy from fatigue in the darkened room.

Shuurei felt more than heard his offer, snuggled into him against his side with her head resting on his chest. Her eyes spent more time closed than open at that moment, and she shook her head no. “Need to know how it ends….”

He doubted she’d even remember in the morning, going by the half-awake state she was currently in, but didn’t say anything further. And she was fading fast; he gave her another five minutes before she’d be fully asleep. He’d move her to his bed then. Decision made, he picked up the remote and hit the ‘mute’ button. He was happy to read the subtitles, he didn’t need to listen to all the explosions and gunfire.

Turning his attention away from the tv, he let his eyes drift down over her semi-sleeping form as he patiently waited for the inevitable. Ryuuki couldn’t help smiling a bit at how close they’d become since his brother had introduced them. It had been such a hesitant start, and yet they’d become…

A sigh built inside him, and it seeped out quietly when he yawned.

… As close as they could possibly be, in some ways.  
Not that he wasn’t willing to wait, but…

This time he let the sigh out softly between his parted lips, smoothing a hand down the side of his girlfriend’s body familiarly, (over her modest halter-top). She stirred but didn’t wake. He was both relieved, and a touch disappointed.

He loved her. He knew she loved him, too—and yet that very last mystery in their relationship remained unexplored. She’d admitted she was more than interested in him physically, but whenever their time together turned more intense, more impassioned, more intimate, she was always the one to pull back, taper off, and once, even turn away from him.

Perhaps if he’d been less experienced, he would have been in a better position to wait; yet as soon as the thought came to mind, he dismissed it as absurd. It had been a long time ago, but he remembered still how eager and… insensitive he’d been in his ignorant virginity. He would never want to be that inexperienced youth around her. In fact, as much as it pained him, he was glad he was as experienced as he was, as the anticipation of what their first time together would be like was entirely different from what he would have wanted as a young teenager. Now, older, he wanted more; not simply the physical connection, but the devotion, attention, and passion that came along with sex when it was consumed between two individuals who loved each other. He wanted to give that to Shuurei, too… if she’d let him.

At this point in his life, he’d had more relationships than she had, and definitely more physically mature ones. And it became increasingly difficult to slow down with her as their time together developed and their feelings deepened. When they’d be lying together on the couch and he’d instinctively pull her towards him, extending their kisses and breathing in her satisfied moans, he had to forcefully remind himself not to reach down, wrap her legs around his waist and rock against her in promise of what was to come; in the kitchen making supper together, where she’d be working at one counter with her hair up in a messy ponytail and chocolate smeared on her cheek, how hard it was sometimes not to go to her, lean into her from behind, corner her, and (supper be damned), make love to her beautiful neck with his hungry mouth, before making his way down, down, tasting her shoulder, the sensitive spot in the crook of her elbow, all the way to the tips of her fingers with his tongue while his hands would roam her slim, smooth waist, upwards to her…

Giving in to the fantasy, Ryuuki shifted down a bit and let his legs relax wider in front of him, the object of his fantasy still curled up into his side on the sofa. His arm secured around her, he leaned his head back against the top of the couch, and let his imagination fly a bit further.

…as he would take each of her digits into his mouth, he would take her other hand and rub her wrist, down to her palm, small, slow circles to help her relax. And when she would respond, would lean back into him because she was enjoying herself and needed him to support her, she would hesitantly reach back for him, bracing herself with a hand on his thigh. She’d knead his thigh muscles with her tense fingers, letting herself feel the pressure build inside as he’d transition his warm, wet attention from her fingers back up her arm to her shoulder and the sensitive spot where shoulder met neck where he’d kiss, then nip and soothe the soft, pale skin, making her shiver. He would nibble her delicately and undo the knot of her halter, gently pulling the material away so smoothly she’d hardly realize it was gone.

Still on the couch and becoming far less comfortable than he had been, Ryuuki breathed out hard, trying not to become so invested in the dream, but it was so difficult when Shuurei was so close to him he could feel the softness of her hands through his shirt, smell the faint scent of her shampoo in her hair. His trousers had become uncomfortable, and he knew his fantasy was getting too real in his mind, too tangible, but he needed to feel the end with her, even if it was only inside his head.

Beside him, completely asleep now, Shuurei’s breath was soft and warm on his throat as her head leaned back when he shifted to get more comfortable on the couch. Her long, black hair had loosened from its bun (she had been baking earlier, he noted—normally she wore at least part of it down, and he loved running his fingers through it), soft tendrils limning her cheeks, neck and collarbone as his heavy-lidded eyes swept her profile.

The glow from the silent television illuminated her for him, and he reached a slightly shaky hand up to slip a lock behind her ear, his fingers lingering to brush her cheeks delicately, the soft line of her jaw down to the sensitive skin of her lips. She always felt a bit cold to him, and he used it as an excuse to keep her close to him in private. (“Stop wiggling, cuddling is good for you! You need to warm up!”)

But now that simple touch enflamed him, and shifting further down with his legs stretched out in front of him and loosening his belt, he caressed her cheek one last time with his thumb, and let his hand trail down her arm to her side where he pulled her up against him tighter and closed his eyes, breathing in her breath.

Her head would be thrown back on his shoulder as she panted when he let go of her thoroughly-sucked fingers and moved to spread a hand over her abdomen, rubbing her possessively. The hand she’d been gripping his thigh with he’d help her guide to a far more gratifying place, assisting her with unlatching his belt, loosening his pants, and slipping her delicate hand gently inside.

Perhaps it was the length of his ‘dry spell’, or even just how near she was to him as he dreamed, but Ryuuki’s breathing became rough as the fantasy took complete control of him, blinding him to his surroundings and usual inhibitions.

She would touch him carefully at first, and he would let her explore for a few moments to see how she reacted; then if she needed some encouragement, he would close his long fingers over hers around his base and slowly teach her how to stroke his length.

Squeezing, then pumping, rubbing her thumb softly across his crown to trigger his first wetness, over and over, he’d help her discover, and let her find her own pace.

When she would be comfortable with her rhythm, he’d take her other hand to his sac so she could knead and stretch it, and all the while he would have been laving attention on her breasts; with his mouth, cupping with his hand, starting from the outside touching their firm smoothness and sampling their weight, then taking his time as he drew to their focus, his thumbs rubbing and plucking her nipples as she’d gasp and moan in arousal.

Ryuuki mentally begged her to say his name, and was rewarded.

“Ryuuki,” she whispered against him, and he nearly shuddered at the extra tension it caused him.  
Yes, he thought excitedly. Again…

So he brushed a thumb over her now-taut nipple again and smiled when he heard her responsive gasp.

It caused a reaction in him, too, and definitely a positive one. He felt himself twitch and harden in anticipation; only she did that to him. Only thoughts of her could make him come so close to the edge of the precipice with only her hand.

“Oh Shuurei,” he stroked himself with her fingers again, lost in his sexual reverie. For so long, he’d…

“…Ryuuki?”

Her voice, as it broke into his mind, had become hesitant; less seductive, but still husky with the same need and arousal he felt. It was almost as if…

The stimulated man jolted back to the present.

He was right. That hesitation wasn’t part of the fantasy.

Ryuuki opened his eyes slowly, took in the scene, and tried to swallow in spite of his suddenly dry throat.

Shuurei was awake, and watching him nervously; his had had slipped under her shirt to cup her breast; and yes, his trousers were lowered and he’d taken her hand to his member.

Before he could panic, though, the unthinkable happened.

She gave a tentative pull, and nibbling her lower lip innocently, she slowly circled the head of his cock with the delicately textured pad of her thumb. Then she glanced at him to check his reaction, and seeing no reproach, gained some confidence and tried again.

And again.

And again, each time more sure than the last, and before long garnering a groan of approval from him. If she was able to do this with just her hands, what would it be like when they—…

“Ryuuki,” she repeated, watching him with dark eyes. Without conscious thought, he’d started kneading her breast again in encouragement, and her breath hitched when he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Noting her reaction (and pleasantly surprised it matched what he’d imagined in his fantasies), he slowly reached up with his other arm, along her leg, her side, across her hem to lift her shirt to expose her taut stomach, and cupped her other breast, measuring its soft, warm weight in his palm; and holding her gaze, he deliberately smoothed his thumb over the most sensitive part of her nipple, agonizingly slowly.

Under his ministrations, the young woman shivered as her eyes struggled to stay open, her eyelids fluttering under the sensual siege he laid on her body.

“I’m…” she started, swallowed, and tried again. “I’m… not used to this. Not too much, ok? … I need to adjust.”

“We’ll just do this for now, if you want,” he assured her, and didn’t miss the relieved smile she gave him.

“Thank you,” she accentuated her gratitude with what he could only describe as a ‘polite’ tug, before she brought both her hands together on his most private of places.

“Could… could I… ?”  
“Yes.” He paused, reconsidered. “Wait.”

And before Shuurei knew it, he’d slid his hands from her shirt and carefully lifted her up from his side, turned her and settled her on his lap, before he shifted himself to lie down on his back again on the couch, propping his head up on the armrest so he could watch her.

“There,” the topaz-eyed man gave a quick stretch, settling himself. “You can sit or kneel, whatever is easier. And you don’t need to do anything you don’t want. I meant it when I said I could wait,” he promised, though he wished anything but.

That was when she took the initiative and, with one hand cupping and massaging his scrotum, she used her other hand to circle his cock, and smoothly slide her hand up, over the top, and then down again on the other side. And back again, in reverse. Her palm smoothed over his velvet helmet with each stroke, in each direction, and he felt heat building inside him again. Unhurried and deliberate, her motions pulled at him and he felt a coil tighten deep within himself, begging to be freed. Each slide more self-assured than the last, she soon coordinated her movements, and shifted closer on his lap to get a firmer grasp of him.

The entire time, she held his gaze with her own, balancing her shyness with a boldness he found tantalizing. The eye-contact made it so much better than his fantasy. He almost went then and there as she tightened momentarily on the downstroke.

“Where did you learn that?” he gasped, forcing himself to think of cold showers and ugly paintings and anythingthatwasn’t his darling, innocent girlfriend giving him the best handjob he’d ever had in his life.

Worried she’d done something wrong, though, by his pained expression, Shuurei started to pull back, only to have Ryuuki grab her wrists and hold them in place, rising up into a sitting position—

\--to catch her lips with his, kissing her softly, passionately, to soothe her worries.

“That was a compliment,” he said a moment later against her slightly open mouth, smiling. “It felt very good,” he added humbly.

Oh, he loved the colour that blushed her cheeks then as she looked down, only to actually see her hands currently caressing him absently.

“… It’s smoother… than I expected…” she said quietly, and her colouring deepened.

Ryuuki smiled wider, encouraging her to talk to him, communicate what she was feeling if it would help her ‘adjust’ as she’d put it.

“What had you been expecting?” he asked, trying not to tease the woman comfortably straddling him. His loosened his grip from her wrists to rub gentle circles on the insides of her palms, then further up her arms, rubbing her soft skin slowly, before resting his hands on her sides and running his palms up and down in a reassuring fashion. He couldn’t help the encouraging squeezes he’d give her, and the way his fingers seemed to tickle her a bit every so often.

A puzzled look crossed her face at his inquiry, though.

“Kouchou-neesan said…”  
Ahhhh, everything suddenly made sense to the young man. The way she obviously loved him, but kept him at a distance at times; the way she pulled back during their intimate encounters…

“What you and Kouchou spoke about… did it… make you worry?”

She nodded, but kept stroking him. It was a bit difficult for him to focus, considering how very good the action felt, but he persevered. They needed to talk this out. On the positive side, he found it reassuring she seemed to be comfortable enough with him to discuss the matter finally. And while perhaps she was just working him on autopilot, he wasn’t about to alert her to that fact. (He really was desperate, he realized pitifully.)

“I know that it is different for everyone, but some things…” her voice drifted off, unsure how to continue.

He waited, pulling her close to him with strong arms to cuddle for a moment, and then reached up with one hand to tangle his fingers in her hair. As he looked down at his fingers, wrapped and twisted in the black silky threads, he slid the elastic from her bun and loosened her sleep-mussed hair entirely to massage her scalp. His poor Shuurei had been worrying too much, she needed to give herself a break sometimes. With him.

Much better, he thought, feeling her shoulders relax minutely, and he leaned forward just enough to nuzzle her neck with his nose.

“Hmmm? What things?” he prodded quietly, finger-combing her hair to calm her. Her fingers had stopped their motion on him and now remained still around his hardness, he noted, but he told himself he didn’t mind.

It took the younger woman a moment to gather herself.

“It can hurt. There can be… problems, um, ‘fitting’. Damage. And then, later, if things don’t work out…” her voice trailed off again.

Letting out a sigh through his nose, Ryuuki considered her words (and whom she’d heard them from).

“Kouchou did a good job of warning you,” he admitted, and wasn’t surprised to feel her tense up again against him. “But,” he added, abandoning completely the sexual nature of their encounter for a moment in order to embrace her to him lovingly and rock her, like a child, “I think she was warning you about worst case scenarios. When two people love each other, care for each other, and are careful with each other, they learn how to protect each other from those bad outcomes.”

With her head tucked into his shoulder and neck, he felt her nod a bit, and continued.

“My brother gave me a similar lecture when I was young, but I didn’t understand it for a long time… But he said if I took the time to take care of the one I loved, the… experience..,” he chose his wording carefully, still unsure how Shuurei would react to things, “would show that love and attention. That there are ways of avoiding the pain, and that if it’s truly the right person…” A faraway look entered his eye.

This time, it was his voice that trailed off.

Still in his arms, listening to his strong, pounding heart beat, Shuurei looked up at his profile outlined by the television’s glow. There was something flitting across it like a memory long-forgotten, causing some new realization, and she found herself curious to know what had managed to completely distract him.

“The right person,” she prodded, and poked him in the chest. She was listening.

Silver hair and compassionate eyes filled Ryuuki’s mind, and he almost felt the speaker’s warm hand on his shoulder again. If it’s truly the right person, it becomes about what you can do together, for each other, not what you can get for yourself, the blond man remembered finally. It’s about the ‘right’ one becoming the ‘only’ one.

“If it’s the right person, you never see anyone else in that light,” he finished, pulling back a few inches to look down at her, happy to see her looking back at him. “That person is the only person for you, and when you come together it will be the best moment of your life.”

They sat in silence after that, reflecting on what Ryuuki had shared.

Shuurei broke the silent contemplation first, by pulling her hands from Ryuuki’s lap and circling them around his waist.

“Thank you,” she said. Her head was tucked into his shoulder again.

For his part, Ryuuki ran his hand down her hair and back one last time before hugging her back. “Anytime.”

“Can we try another time?” she asked then, surprising him.

“Anytime,” he repeated, more emphatically. It was late and he felt his eyes closing; he nudged Shuurei’s shoulder where he rested his chin, and asked, “Anything else you’d like to talk about? If not, I think it’s time for bed.”

“Hmmmmm,” came the non-committal reply.

But when he made to stand, she stayed put.

“Mm?”

“… the pain, when a girl first… is that true?”

He wasn’t ashamed to admit, a part of him really wished he had Kouchou there at that moment to bash her double-edged advice with a shovel. Really, couldn’t she have given Shuurei at least SOME positive information about sex? Although… Shuurei didn’t seem completely opposed to the idea; in fact, the more they’d spoken, the more eager she had been, leaning in to him, and tonight, she’d even touched him voluntarily… So perhaps Kouchou had done some good, or at least spoken positively of sex, with Shuurei. He could only hope.

Letting out a low breath, Ryuuki raised his head to look at the anxious, self-conscious woman directly.

“For girls, the first time can hurt. But it doesn’t have to be as bad as Kouchou made it sound. If we warm you up properly, you may not notice as much as you think.”

For a second she looked quite confused, and downcast.

“I’m always cold, though,” she muttered.

This time, his cheeks went pink, and he felt his mouth tugging at a smile. “Ah, er… when I said, ‘warm you up’, I meant…”

Her eyes widened.

His gleamed wickedly.

And that started an entirely different discussion.

… among other things.

 

 

END.


End file.
